Ruby Rose: Dreamer
by ObeseCommando
Summary: A year after graduating from Beacon, Ruby finds herself patrolling the Grimm-infested world to maintain her vow of keeping humanity safe. Has she lost her own humanity in the process? Formerly "Ruby Rose: Red like Roses Rising Revengeance Reloaded"
1. Chapter 1

**Ruby Rose: Red like Roses Rising Revengeance Reloaded**

The Ursa howled as a scythe cracked across its raised foreleg. The battered blade cut through fur, skin, bones, and air in one swoop. The Ursa swung its remaining appendage blindly. Its pained roar carried across the forest. The desperate strike missed and the red-cloaked attacker robbed the beast of its other leg. The Ursa fell to the ground, now unable to stand. It raised its big head to its assailant and let out one last, defiant growl before the scythe's blade silently slipped into one of its angry, red eyes. The lifeless Ursa collapsed in a heap and it wasn't long before the corpse started to fade in a shower of rose petals.

The petals floated past the young woman and landed on the red cloak she wore, but she paid them no mind. She swung her massive scythe over her head with one hand. Without a thought, the weapon collapsed upon itself and became a blocky, compact gun. The weapon was lighter and quieter than it used to be. The red-cloaked girl attached the gun to the hitch at the small of her back and kept walking. There had been two Grimm that attacked; those large, evil creatures that would rip a normal person to shreds. However, the beasts had barely registered for the young woman as she kept up her steady pace.

Fresh snow crunched under her black boots, leaving behind an easy-to-follow trail for anyone behind her. Although the girl knew that, if she looked, she wouldn't see anyone there. No matter how desperately she wanted them to be.

"Come back to me."

The voice was as clear as it had been a year ago. The young woman pulled her red hood over her silver eyes. She was surrounded by snow.

"You don't have to do this."

The young woman knew that was a lie. It was a lie born of selfishness. Her feet kept moving forward. She couldn't go back because there was nothing for her there. She had said she would become a Huntress. She would protect humanity from the Grimm. There was no place for anything else. This was what she had wanted.

Years ago, there had been those who questioned her abilities. They thought that she would cave under the pressure. They thought she wouldn't do anything but die. Yet, when push came to shove, who had stood strong? When graduation had come, who had truly dedicated themselves to hunting the Grimm? The young woman scowled.

No one had.

She was all alone.

The world turned into a blur as the young woman activated her semblance and ran at a tree. With a single, fluid motion, she was able to deploy her scythe back to its full length and swing. The tree yielded before the blade, but that was not enough. As if the tree was falling in slow motion, the young woman was able to deliver a volley of strikes. She took no notice that the tree had turned to dust and kept swinging until her arms and chest burned. Rose petals lay suspended in the air as the young woman came back to consciousness. She blinked and put her scythe away before walking past her flight of passion. She didn't think to pick up the few, substantial remnants of the tree. There was no need for a fire. She had grown used to the cold.

"Ruby, you're acting like you don't want to live anymore!"

The young woman caught a glimpse of something silky and white flutter behind a tree. She rested her hand on the compacted scythe. Were the Grimm trying to trick her? Her mind quickly perused all of the known types of Grimm and decided that none of them had the capacity to grow white hair. She relaxed and let her hand fall away from the scythe. Maybe she was just tired, the young woman reasoned. How long had it been since she had a good sleep?

A cave made for the best shelter. It was dry and empty. The young woman shook her cloak of excess snow and sat on the ground. A faint chill immediately made its way up her legs. She reached into one of her pouches and pulled out her one comfort besides her scythe. It was an odd amalgamation of technology with a telescoping screen that was displayed once the two ends were pulled apart. It was called a scroll, but the young woman thought that someone could have given it a better name. She proceeded to pull the halves apart and ignored the little symbol that showed how much life was left in the little machine. She only needed forty-one seconds to navigate the interface and find the sound file.

The file carried a timestamp of two, maybe three, years ago. She was still in Beacon. Everyone was still together. She hit the "Play" button and closed her eyes.

Small waves lapped at the sides of the docks. Seagulls cawed overhead. There was a crowd somewhere. The sharp sound of high-heeled boots was distinct against the rest. Then the owner of the boots stopped and turned around to see the scroll being held towards her.

"What are you doing?" chirped the scroll's tiny speakers.

"Say it again," came the response.

The scroll produced a crackling sigh. The young woman smiled as she remembered a blush spreading across normally frozen features. "Isn't once enough?"

"No, Weiss. Once will never be enough. I really need to hear you say it again. Please?"

There was a moment of silence and, as always, the young woman's heart stopped as she wondered if the battery had finally died. She leaned toward the scroll.

"I love you, Ruby Rose." The quality faded as the speaker got closer and pushed the scroll down towards the ground. "I love you more than anyone else on this planet. You make me feel complete and I hope that I can always be by your side."

The young woman closed her eyes and imagined how warm hands had once cupped her face and brought her closer. She felt the soft lips press against her own in a small, quick, and heated kiss. The scroll went back to its normal display, the clip finished. She turned it off and stuck the scroll back into her pouch. With a grunt, the young woman stood up and stretched before heading out of the cave and continuing on her way.

As she walked on, the snowdrifts piled higher. The young woman pulled her cloak tighter around herself. Although she still felt the heat offered from the recording, she would admit that the chill was getting worse as she kept going. She momentarily cast her gaze over her shoulder. It was just as she expected. There was no one there. She sighed and leaned into the wind, putting one foot in front of the other, into the deepening snow.


	2. Chapter 2

The fire crackled in the clearing. The scent of roasting deer filled the air to replace the absent snowflakes that had fallen for the rest of day. The young woman loosened her cloak and stared into the flames. They flickered and leapt towards the sky but sizzled against the venison instead. The juices from the deer swelled and fell, which always made a satisfying sizzle against the burning wood below. The young woman licked her lips and pulled a knife from her belt. The edge gleamed in the fire's light and made the blade look white. The color of Weiss.

The thought made her pause in a half-standing, half-sitting position as she remembered another time where she had been bound to a hospital bed and Weiss had insisted that she provide every meal. The young woman grinned and proceeded to cut off a large chunk of meat.

The smell forced its way through her reddened nose and her mouth instantly started to water. She quickly sat down with the venison in hand and stuck her face into it; taking large bites and occasionally remembering to swallow before eating more. The large chunk didn't last a minute. The young woman swallowed the last mouthful of venison in her hands and sat back before thinking of eating more. She wiped her lips on the sleeve of her black shirt. Part of her mind realized that her table manners had decayed in the year she had been on her own.

An imaginary Weiss scolded her for not sitting up straight while eating and using her sleeves as a napkin. However, if anyone had joined her, they would have experienced the joy that was her roasted venison. She told herself that it was their loss and swallowed against the bitter bile that threatened to crawl up her throat. A slight growl made her ears perk up and the young woman scanned the trees.

She noticed the glowing, red eyes looking back and knew that it had to be Beowolves. She frowned and brought out her scythe. The venison had brought some attention.

"You are really taking yourself too seriously, little sister," Yang said. "You used to be so perky."

The Beowolves snarled and emerged from the trees. The young woman quickly looked around and noticed that it was a whole pack. The dumb beasts didn't even know they had been lead right to the slaughter. One stood straighter than the rest and howled.

"I know, but I can't help it. Ever since I've become team leader, I have to hold myself to a higher standard. I can't slack off anymore, Yang."

The young woman activated her semblance and threw herself at the Beowolves. She habitually pressed the trigger on her scythe's handle to move a little faster, but she no longer expected the loud shot to ring out and was not disappointed to feel herself moving at the same speed. Her ammunition had long since run out.

"Geez, no wonder why Weiss likes you so much," Yang said and pushed her bangs away from her eyes. "I doubt anyone would mind if you would just relax a little. You keep working yourself so hard and people will think you're some sort of robot Huntress. Or Penny. You need to live a little!"

Three Beowolves' heads fell off at the same time. The scythe couldn't shoot anymore, but the deadly blade was more than enough, and she could still swivel the blade into whatever position she needed. In a red blur, the young woman landed on a Beowolf's back. The surrounding Grimm advanced on their brethren, but each of their attacks caused them to either lose an arm or cut into the flesh of the captive Beowolf, who was too crowded to do anything but howl. The red scythe twisted and turned in the air until it looked like the young woman was surrounded by a metal curtain. Through it all, she ignored the burning in her arms. Swinging the gigantic scythe had been easier when she could shoot.

"This isn't about what I want anymore, Yang. I'm going to be the best Huntress ever, and in order to do that, I'm going to go off and kill Grimm."

"And what comes after?"

"What do you mean?"

Yang waved her hands around. "Let's say you kill all the Grimm. You're a big, national hero, what then?" She paused for an answer. When none came, she said, "Exactly. You've got no plans after this."

"It's what we've been training for."

Yang frowned and leaned against the guard rail. The ends of her hair started to ignite, but the blonde calmed herself. She said, "Sounds like you've made up your mind. So what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to go out and kill the Grimm. Just like I said."

"And you're going to do that by?"

"By walking."

"You're going out there alone? For how long?" Yang's eyes widened.

"As long as it takes. You're welcome to join me. All of you are."

Yang frowned and took a deep breath. She held it for a few seconds before slowly exhaling. "I don't want you to go."

"But Yang—"

"No, Ruby. I forbid it."

The large pack of Beowolves was dissolving before her and her scythe. They came from all angles, but years of training and fighting had honed her abilities to a fine point. Soon, their claws couldn't touch her and the ones that tried to bite her were cleaved in two. Limbs fell from the sky and the ground hid under growing pile of dead Beowolves. But the Grimm kept coming, even though they saw their pack mates fall. The young woman made sure they all got a similar fate.

"You know I have to do this, right?"

Blake frowned. She crossed her arms and didn't speak.

"You also know you can't stop me, right?"

Once the window was opened, Blake said, "So you're going to start your noble mission in the dead of night and behind the backs of everyone on your team." Blake's tone was flat. She was only stating the obvious, but for some reason, the words felt like they were coated in poison.

"This is what I've been trained to do."

"And it's in the farthest reaches of the map where you can best protect those in need."

"You're not changing my mind."

"I wasn't trying to. I'm repeating your plan to myself so I can understand." Blake sniffed and asked, "How does Weiss feel about this?"

A lowered gaze; a hole in the armor. "She doesn't know."

"But you love her."

Anger flooded her veins

at such an accusation, and the few remaining Beowolves had the extreme misfortune of still being alive. The red-cloaked girl bared her teeth and snarled. The Grimm, with their negligible intellect, only saw a challenge and charged. The young woman ran across the shattered bodies she had created to meet them.

"Of course I do! That's why I have to go out there, Blake. I have to keep her safe. I have to eliminate all of them."

The black-haired girl twitched her bow. "There are other ways, Ruby. Devote yourself around here. You can still protect humanity, everyone else's and your own." There was a tone that Blake had hardly ever used before. She was pleading.

"And do what, huh? Sit huddled together while the Grimm are a constant threat that won't go away? Can't you see what I'm trying to do? I'm not just trying to protect humanity, Blake. I'm trying to give everyone a better future. One where little girls don't have to dream of devoting their lives to killing. You said it yourself, life isn't like a fairytale."

Blake narrowed her amber eyes. "And I suppose you're going to go make it better?"

"The only way I know how."

The wind from the open window slammed into the room, sending Blake's hair flying. The red hood threatened to fall off. A thick, black boot set onto the window sill and the cramped confines of the room gave way to the open, night sky.

"So there's no way to convince you otherwise, but answer me this. How is your plan going to make Weiss's life better, exactly? I didn't catch it the first time."

Anger, doubt, shame all mixed underneath the black fabric of the shirt. Do heroes slip out of backdoors and windows in the middle of the night? Would this be the legacy? The world seemed to shrink down into a tunnel and the ground seemed very far away.

"She'll understand."

Then came the descent.

The pile of dead Beowolves couldn't dissolve fast enough for her. The stench of their wet, matted fur was disgusting on a good day. Add into the already pungent smell with the spilled guts and half-digested meals that evacuated the bodies upon dying. It was enough to make her limp away from the epicenter of the battle, which was nothing more than a single, mauled Beowulf corpse ringed by the sliced bodies of its comrades. She took care not to slip as she picked her way through the once peaceful clearing. There was enough blood to melt all the snow and turn the ground to mud. Once she was at the edge of the corpses, she looked at her handiwork and thought, briefly about how the location would have made a suitable last stand, but death, as always, was postponed.

She had held her breath until she was far away from the massacre to take her first deep breath. The air was still cold, but it tasted great. The world seemed to take on a more vibrant hue and the young woman felt glad to be alive. She took another breath and exhaled, this time adding a brief chuckle. The scarce light reflected on the Beowolf-stamped snow. The sun had started to set, briefly making her think that the world had turned to a giant pile of orange sherbet. She remembered to smile at the comparison.

The burning in her muscles had spread throughout her entire body and she brought a shaking hand to her brow. To her surprise, her glove came away with blood and sweat. The brief moment of joy she felt was promptly ended as she realized just how quickly she could have been killed. The possible outcomes for her fight started to flood her head as she scowled and touched the wound across her forehead. She hadn't even realized that it had happened. Everything had gone by so quickly. Now she couldn't ignore the annoying throb of the cut.

Annoyed, she grabbed one of the lower corners of her red cloak and made it redder as she dabbed the fabric against her latest wound. A quick check of her body made her realize that she had either been extremely skilled or extremely lucky to make it away from the encounter with just a cut. She chose skilled and begrudgingly accepted the involvement of some luck.

The more she thought about it, luck had probably played a bigger role than her scarce ego would admit. Half of the fight had been spent in memories again. She shook her head, as if that would dislodge the entire past stored inside her. There was nothing good about remembering the time leading up to her self-imposed exile. All it did was fill her with the old doubts. She cleared her throat and looked around. No more Grimm were around, but neither were the smiling faces of her loved ones there.

The young woman hefted her scythe and single-handedly retracted it. She slipped the weapon away started walking again. She thought to keep going, but her feet felt like they had turned to stone. The doubts were stronger than they had ever been. If she had died that night, no one would have ever known. She looked over her shoulder.

Maybe a year was enough, she thought. She had done humanity more than enough good. She had lived up to her vows as a Huntress. It took some time to find her previous tracks, but thankfully no snow had fallen.

As Ruby Rose retraced the steps she had just taken, she thought, _I'm coming home. _


End file.
